Cray Cray Vacay: An Ant-Man and Wasp Adventure
by Rupert Brown
Summary: When Janet Van Dyne convinced her beau Henry Pym to take some time off, she'd envisioned fruity drinks and tropical sunsets. Instead, they found that paradise isn't all it's cracked up to be. When a rash of cruise ship disappearances leaves the authorities stumped, down time turns to showtime. Solving crime, & finding some personal time. All in a day's work for these Avengers!
1. Chapter 1

_**Cray Cray Vacay:**_

 _ **An Ant-Man and The Wasp Adventure**_

Prologue

"Increase to one third, Mister Stewart."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

The engines' deep-throated hum increased with the ship's speed. The massive turbines strained like restless thoroughbreds, anxious to burst free of their restraints.

"Coming on the outer buoy, sir."

"Very good, Mister Stewart. Take us out slow and easy." It wouldn't do to disturb their guests.

Night had begun to fall in that particularly swift way that it does in the tropics. He'd been at sea for over thirty years, and in all that time he'd never gotten over just how peaceful it looked in that twilight realm between night and day.

 _Nature's Prozac_ he thought, amused. But it was true enough. The sea did have an uncanny way of calming even the most troubled of souls.

 _Water, water, everywhere_ … The captain turned back to his helmsman.

"Position?"

"We've cleared the outer buoy, sir. We should be entering International Waters this time tomorrow."

"That's fine, Mister Stewart. You have the Con."

As captain, he was expected at dinner, one of the minor inconveniences of being a captain of a cruise ship. Still, the chow beat anything he'd been served back in the Navy. Not to mention the pay was better. Way better.

Being captain of an ocean liner was more than just being in charge of the crew personnel. He also had to play host to all the passengers on board. So a certain amount of diplomacy was needed for the job. Not only did one have to deal with uncooperative staff, but pompous rich socialites as well. In reality, it was more like being a babysitter to hundreds of children. Some you had to coddle, some you admonished, and occasionally, some you had to spank.

He reflected on all of this as he entered the ship's main dinning room.

"Captain! Oh, Captain!" Mrs. Rothmaid waved a gaudily bejeweled hand at the captain. She was to dine with him tonight, along with others at the Captain's Table.

Having to eat with stuffy, overbearing, rich people. Another of the burdens of command.

"Oh, Captain, you simply _must_ hear Sir Grottby's story. It is simply _too_ much!" Mrs. Rothmaid enthused.

"I'm sure it is," the captain politely responded. Sitting down, he motioned for the waiter to begin serving dinner.

For the next hour and a half, the captain was forced to make small talk and smile at the stale banality of his guests. He supposed that they weren't bad people, but having trawled the ocean's waves for some three decades had made him impatient to the niceties of dealing with people. Sailors were not, on average, the most genteel of company.

If only they weren't such landlubbers. It seemed as though the most basic of nautical occurrences were tantamount to unfathomable mysteries to these people. To someone of his salt, having to answer the same inane questions over and over again was grating to say the least.

"I was rather hoping for a bit of action myself," a young wastrel down the table said languidly, idly eying his rapidly decreasing liquor glass.

The captain turned his attention back to his guests. "Excuse me?"

"I was saying how I had rather hoped for a bit of action on this cruise. It's been a tad dull so far."

"What kind of action, sir?"

"Well, this is the sea you know. The 'great briny deep' and all that. Mysterious goings on are supposed to always be happening. The Bermuda Triangle's around here isn't it?"

"We're not near Bermuda," the captain said, humoring the lad. "I hate to disappoint you (though in reality he didn't), but the cruise line frowns upon any undue excitement on our trips. Something to do with insurance premiums I imagine…"

The diners laughed good naturedly as the young man merely shrugged and turned his attention back to his drink.

Excitement. Adventure. If these people _really_ wanted these things they wouldn't take a trip on one of these floating amusement parks. If they _really_ wanted to experience the 'thrills and chills' of ocean travel, they'd buy their own sloop, yacht, whatever, and sail _themselves_ around.

As it was, that 'honor' was his at the moment. And while playing nursemaid to the idle rich wasn't what he had gone to sea for lo those many years ago, it did provide him with a ship under his feet, and at the end of the day that was compensation enough.

The rest of diner went smoothly, and after a suitable amount of time, he excused himself from the passengers and made his way back to the bridge.

"Nothing to report, sir," Mister Stewart said as the captain entered.

"Very good, Mister Stewart. I'll take it from here, why don't you turn in for the night."

"Thank you, sir. Good night, sir," the helmsman said as he left the bridge.

As the captain gazed out over the darkened seascape, he couldn't help but utter a sigh of contentment. This is what it was all about. A man and the sea. Whether it was a tuna boat or a destroyer, it was all the same; the connection between a captain, his ship, and the ocean. That three fourths of the world's surface was covered with it, and yet man knew practically nothing as to what lurked in its depths… Small wonder it continued to hold the same fascination over humanity it had since time immemorial.

An hour later, the captain began to think that it was time to call it a night. Granted, his first mate could handle most of the day-to-day chores as well as he could if he wanted to sleep in, after all, commanding a cruise ship wasn't exactly the same as piloting a nuclear submarine in hostile waters. But at the end of the day, he was captain, and as such, he had an image to maintain. Cruise ship or no, it was still a ship of the line.

But just as he was turning away from the Con, the ship's lights flickered and then went out completely. Save for the moonlight filtering in through the windows, he suddenly found himself on a darkened bridge.

"Navigator, report!" he barked out.

"Everything's out, sir. The console's completely dead."

"What about the backup generators?"

"Everything's down, sir. At least from up here."

"Well, find out if it's ship wide. We may only be having a localized problem. If we can—"

"What in the world is that?" the navigator interrupted, wonderment, and not a bit of panic, in his voice.

"What's where?" the captain asked, annoyed. "It's pitch black. We need—"

"Out there, beyond the bow," the navigator said, interrupting again.

Cross, the captain looked out through the bridge's forward viewing area, striving to make out in the starlight whatever it was that was causing his navigator to get antsy.

Straining, he could just make out something in the dark. At first he couldn't tell what it was. It looked like some kind of ripple. Like what one would see on the surface of a pond.

Gropingly, the captain made his way as far forward as he could. As he pressed his face against the glass, he could clearly see that his ship was getting steadily closer to it.

What was more, the disturbance itself was widening to the point where the captain _could_ tell what it was.

"Full reverse!" the captain shouted, whirling around.

"We can't, Captain. None of the systems are responding. What is it sir?"

"It's death," the captain responded, his voice unnaturally calm.

"Wha—what?" the navigator stammered.

"Son," the captain said, now unable to tear his eyes away from the growing anomaly, "that's what we call a maelstrom."

Where it had come from, or how it had formed, he didn't know. But what he _did_ know was that the ship was bearing down on the mother of all whirlpools. Like a figment out of some demented nightmare, the mawing, gapping mouth yawned ever wider, intent upon swallowing them whole.

Almost as if he were in a movie, the captain saw it approach in slow motion. The stars hanging in the sky lent an air of unreality to the entire situation. At any moment he expected to wake up in a cold sweat, having realized that it was all just a bad dream. Yet there was no waking up from this. It was very much real.

The entire ship rocked when it made contact at last with the massive sinkhole. It was as though the ocean was a giant tub and someone had decided to pull the plug. The captain imagined himself some kind of bath toy as he saw the sides of the whirlpool go around faster and faster. The roar of water filled his senses, pounding his inner ear into submission. It was all that he could do to hold onto to the wheel with both hands to keep from flying across the bridge.

It was only a matter of time before the gravitational forces worked their magic and he blacked out. However, had he been able to remain conscious only a couple of minutes longer, he would have realized that the whirlpool was only the opening act of this drama.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 1

"-I'm just saying that all the studies show a direct correlation between prolonged exposure to sun and increases in certain kinds of skin disorders."

"I'll be sure to bring sunscreen," replied the buxom brunette languishing on the cabin's bed.

"I'm serious, Jan," a muffled voice replied from the bathroom.

"So am I, Hank," she laughed. "Can't you stop being a scientist for even one minute?"

"I can't help being who I am," Hank answered back, emerging from the bathroom clad in nothing more than shorts and a pair of sandals.

"Which is a man on vacation," Jan rejoined. "Say it with me: VA-CA-TION."

"Vacation."

"Very good. You _can_ be trained." Her eyes twinkled impishly.

Giving her a rye look, Hank proceeded to give himself the once over. He wasn't used to being this underdressed. "So, how do I look?"

"Like a man on vacation."

"Well, if you say so…"

"In fact," Jan rose lusciously to her feet, "I do say so." She ended any further resistance with a kiss.

"Mmmm…" she purred, drawing away. "On second thought, I don't feel like going up on deck. Or even to dinner tonight…" She nestled her arms around Hank's neck.

"Don't tempt me," he said half jokingly, "you know I'm weak. But I'm afraid we promised the Captain we'd have dinner at his table tonight."

"Oh pooh," the beauty pouted. "Forget the Captain. It's _our_ vacation."

"Perhaps, but we can't forget who we are. Which is the 'Astonishing Ant-Man' and the 'Winsome Wasp'." He still got a kick out of those slightly cheesy monikers.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," Jan continued petulantly. "For the duration of this cruise we're Janet Van Dyne and Dr. Henry Pym."

"You can't separate one from the other. Goodness knows we've tried at times…"

She slumped against his chest in mock despair.

"It's bad enough that we have to face super villains with the Avengers, but we have to make ourselves available to our adoring public too?"

Hank gave a snort. " _Your_ adoring public. It's not _me_ they'll be looking at. Especially with that swimsuit…"

"Come on," she said, a smile tugging at her lips, "let's get some ions." Taking his arm, she dragged Hank to the cabin door.

They emerged from below decks into a bright sunlit afternoon. All around the deck lounged fellow vacationers enjoying their free time. Whether it was swimming in the pool, bellying up to the bar, or going on the prowl, there was something for everyone.

As Jan led them to an open spot, Hank could see that all eyes had swung in their direction. He couldn't help the little grin of smugness that crept across his face. While he wasn't a bad looking guy, he knew that it was Jan that they were looking at. He couldn't blame them, she was a stunner.

She had been one of the 'beautiful people' all her life. So much so that she genuinely didn't realize it when people stared at her. He'd learned to have fun with the staring. After all, out of all the men on board this ship, in all the world, _he_ was the one Jan had chosen to have on her arm. They could eat their hearts out.

Janet Van Dyne was not only slender, but petite as well. When Hank was at his normal height, she barely reached his chin. And today she was dressed in a little two-piece she'd brought along. While it covered all the vital parts, what was left to sight was enough reason to look on agape.

If people confused her for a fashion model, it was only natural. To say that she had a 'passion for fashion' would be putting it mildly. She was _constantly_ redesigning hers and Hank's costumes. They had become known as something of a pair of clotheshorses amongst the superhero set. While Hank was perfectly fine with whatever happened to be clean, Jan insisted on looking her best whenever she went out. Be it as Janet Van Dyne, or her costumed persona of The Wasp. By extension, she tried her best to make Hank look 'presentable' as well.

"Here we go." Reaching a couple of empty deck chairs, she took the towels and suntan oil from Hank and set them down. Then, settling herself into one of the chairs, she took a deep breath, savoring the fresh clean sea air.

"Ahhh…" she sighed. "The sun, the sea, and me. What more could you ask for?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Hank said, playing along. "A new spectrograph would be nice. And I could always use a spare electron microscope. Then there's that upgrade on the Avengers' quin-jet engines—"

"Hank Pym!"

"I'm kidding, honey, just kidding!" Hank laughed.

"Oooh! You, you, _scientist_!" She proceeded to stick her tongue out at him.

Still laughing, Hank didn't see the man walking up until he was nearly upon them.

In his early twenties, and of athletic build, it didn't take Hank long to figure out what was up. Of course, the group of guys in the background huddled together, ardently looking his and Jan's direction, was a tip off as well.

Hank didn't know if these guys recognized him and Jan as superheroes, or if they just thought them two cruise going passengers. Either way, it was pretty clear to the erstwhile Avenger what was happening. It wasn't the first time.

Enthralled by Jan's appearance, this guy had been chosen by his peers to 'feel out' the situation. That is to say, this guy's buddies had egged him into finding out whether Jan was 'available' or not.

"Excuse me. I couldn't help but notice you crossing the deck just now. And I was, uh, wondering if you were alone, I mean if you needed some company…"

"Sorry, sailor. I'm taken." She placed her hand over Hank's, giving him a loving look. With a look like that, he didn't need his growth powers to feel a hundred feet tall.

"Ah…" Embarrassed, the guy made a beeline back to his buddies to break the bad news.

"Have I mentioned how lucky of a man I am?"

"Today? No." Smiling, she let go of Hank's hand to grab the suntan lotion. "Now," turning over on to her stomach, she gave the bottle to Hank. "You were the one worried about sunburn, care to do something about it?" Her ivory limbs glistened invitingly in the tropical sun.

Hank _was_ a lucky man.

A few hours later found the two back in their cabin preparing for dinner.

"I still don't understand why we have to wear these getups," Hank complained, still struggling with his black tie.

"They're formal dinners, Hank," Jan answered, coming over to help him.

"It just all seems so snobbish. Normal people don't go around dressing up for dinner like they have to attend a funeral or something."

"Well, there's a pleasant thought… There, finished." She completed tying the tie.

"Sorry. Would 'wedding' have been better?"

"Much."

"Okay then. Normal people don't go around dressing up for dinner like they have to attend a wedding."

"Ah-ah. But like you said, we aren't normal people. We're the 'Gregarious Giant-Man' and the 'Winsome Wasp'."

"Gregarious?"

"It means fond of the company of others. Sociable."

"I know what it means. I just don't see how that accurately describes my pers—"

"It's sarcasm, Hank."

"Oh."

"Besides," Jan went on, "would you _really_ want to be the only one in the room dressed in a polo shirt and khakis?"

"The Hulk doesn't have to worry about this sort of thing…"

"The Hulk doesn't get invited to sit at the captain's table either. In fact, the Hulk doesn't get invited anywhere…"

"But you have to admit, having him here sure would liven up things."

"I hardly think a night full of 'Hulk want chicken', 'Hulk no eat peas', would make for scintillating conversation."

"Maybe not. But I bet you no one would tell _him_ to wear a tie..."

Hank's amusement melted away at the look Jan gave him.

He cleared his throat. "Right."

"Now that that's settled, how do I look?" Jan twirled around, showing off her full-length eveningwear.

A portrait in black, she was a picture of elegance. From the floor length dress, to the long elbow gloves to match, Jan screamed beauty. Simple, understated; yet devastating.

"Forget dinner. _You_ look good enough to eat."

"Ah-ah. Main course first, _then_ dessert..."

When they had come on board, they had asked the captain to keep their presence on the ship quiet. While Hank and Jan didn't have 'secret identities' in the way some of their costumed peers did, they still didn't want to attract any more attention to themselves than necessary. If they were recognized, well, there was nothing that they could do about that. But there was no need to advertise the fact.

But the captain did insist upon their eating at his table, which the pair graciously accepted.

Even if they weren't recognized as superheroes, their entrance was enough to draw attention.

An attractive well built man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes dressed in a tuxedo escorting a vision of loveliness in a clinging gown that accentuated the woman's exquisite physique. The two complimented each other like some Greek statuary of old.

The meal was great, as was the conversation. Though Jan did have to nudge Hank from time to time to prevent him from getting too 'techie'. Once a discussion turned to matters of science, he had a tendency to dominate it. He was such a nerd. Yet Jan loved him for it.

As empty plates were cleared away, the band began to play. Jan turned to her lover.

"So, want to shake a leg?"

"Uh, shouldn't we wait for our food to digest?" He knew that she knew that he hated to dance. He felt awkward.

"We're not going swimming. Come on," dragging him to the dance floor, she placed his hands firmly about her waist and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Now, Dr. Pym," she murmured softly into his chest, "let's dance."

They began to slowly sway to the music the band was playing; a tune for romantics.

Hank closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation of feeling the person he loved up against his body. Jan did the same. They had been through a lot, Hank reflected.

He had always been awkward with the ladies, regardless of his good looks. Uneasy with his social skills. As a consequence, he had thrown himself into science, only to be rebuffed by his peers.

Then he made a breakthrough in his studies and discovered 'Pym Particles', subatomic particles that could be manipulated to change the size of living or inanimate objects. A breakthrough that had led to his developing the costumed identity of Ant-Man, and later Giant-Man.

Then he met Jan.

She was a flighty rich girl back then. Well meaning, but ditsy (or at least that's how it seemed). When some unknown monster killed her father, she came to Hank for help. From that moment on, their lives would become forever intertwined.

To avenge her father, and to insulate herself into the life of this quirky scientist she was attracted to, Janet Van Dyne consented to undergo a treatment of Hank's own design to become the Wasp. The result was the ability to shrink, and when doing so, to be able to produce wings from her back, thus giving her the gift of flight.

In addition to that, Hank had built her specialty bracelets that allowed the wearer to fire bolts of electricity—thus giving the Wasp her 'sting'.

Shortly after they began their exploits in crime fighting, they were instrumental in founding the superhero group known as the Avengers. Little did they realize at the time that they would be founding members of the world's foremost organization of truth and justice.

Respected as a scientist, admired as a hero, and loved as a mate, Dr. Henry Pym was living a dream that his younger self could have never believed possible.

While he disagreed with Nietzsche on fundamental philosophical grounds, Hank did have to admit that he was right in one regard: that which does not kill you makes you stronger.

It took awhile for Hank to realize that the band had stopped playing, but Jan didn't seem to mind, so neither did he. Together, danced into the wee hours of the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 2

"Don't you think we have enough souvenirs?" Hank asked from behind an armload of boxes. "After all, we can only fit so much in the cabin…"

"I suppose you're right," Jan sighed wistfully.

They had come into town when the ship had docked. Like any tourist, Jan had been eager to buy as much kitsch as she could get her hands on.

"How about we get something to eat? I don't know about you, but all this store hopping has made me hungry."

"Hmmm…?" Jan asked absently, looking at an outfit in the window of a store.

"Food. Nourishment. You know, that stuff people consume from time to time in order to stay alive…"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Jan apologized, breaking her reverie. "Lunch sounds good to me. I'm starved."

They made their way across the market square, struggling to navigate the busy crowds that thronged the area. At last they made it to a table at an open-air café.

Setting their packages down, Hank took a seat gratefully. Jan took the other one and watched the hustle and bustle around them.

Out of the multitude came a native boy with an instant camera.

"Take your picture, _senor_?" he asked, coming up to Hank.

"Sure, why not? Jan?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me." She scooted her seat over to Hank and laid her head on his shoulder.

The camera _whirled_ and soon a photograph issued forth. After a few seconds it was dry, and the boy handed it to Jan.

"So, how much?" Hank asked good-naturedly.

"Eight dollars, _senor_."

"Eight dollars!" His good nature fled. "That's highway robbery!"

"Calm down, Hank! Here…" Jan pulled out her pocketbook and extricated the cash, giving it to the smiling boy.

"Gracious, _senorita_." Still flashing his pearly white teeth, he melted back into the crowd.

"Now I'm beginning to understand why they call these places 'tourist traps'…"

"Oh, Hank." Jan placed a hand on his arm. "It's only a few dollars. Besides, I want this picture." She snatched it from his hand and placed it in one of her shopping bags.

"But still, eight bucks…"

Jan laughed as the waiter came over.

"Well, today was certainly interesting." Hank and Jan had finished sight seeing and were headed back to the ship. However, before they reached the gangway, they were met by an officious looking purser.

"Excuse me, Dr. Pym, Ms. Van Dyne? The Captain requests your presence in his cabin as soon as possible. It's rather important."

The two looked at each other curiously.

"Tell the Captain we'll be there just as soon as we offload this stuff." Hank indicated their parcels.

"Very good, sir." The purser then headed back onboard.

Jan turned, puzzled. "I wonder what this is all about?"

"I don't know. But let's get this stuff put away and find out."

After disposing of their purchases, they made their way to the captain's cabin. Inside, they found not only the captain, but also a man in a business suit. They both rose as the couple entered.

"Come in, come in. I'm glad you came," the captain bid them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Pym, Ms. Van Dyne," the man in the suit said, shaking their hands in turn.

"We were told there's something important you need to speak to us about?" Hank looked askance from one to the other.

"Yes, I'm afraid there is," the captain began. "Allow me to present Mr. Peterson, District Deputy of Sea Going Affairs in this area of operations for the cruise line."

"Dr. Pym," Mr. Peterson took over, "I'll cut right to the chase."

"That's how we prefer it," Jan interjected.

"Last night, one of the cruise line's ships chartered for this area, the _Majestic Gull_ , vanished without a trace."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Hank interrupted, "but isn't this more of a matter for the Coast Guard, or the Navy?"

"Ordinarily you would be right. However, this makes the third disappearance in two weeks. Both the local authorities and the U.S. military have no idea what has happened to them. Investigations are ongoing of course, but so far they've come up dry."

Both Hank and Jan let the easy joke go by. Instead, Hank asked "Why is this the first we've heard of it? Something like this should have garnered a media frenzy."

"The cruise line has endeavored to keep all of this as quiet as possible. If this were to get out we'd be ruined."

"I know it would've changed _my_ travel plans…" Jan said.

"Exactly. So far, we've been able to beg off the relatives of the missing passengers with excuses of radio failure and the like. But very soon the scheduled duration of those cruises will be up, and then…" he trailed off, indicating the cruise line would be up a creek without a paddle.

"So, where do we come in?" Jan asked.

Mr. Peterson shifted uncomfortably.

"Ah, yes. Well, you see, all the ships disappeared around this area. And since the line knew you were on board…"

"You want us to find your missing ships for you," Jan finished. It wasn't a question.

"The line would be ever so grateful…"

"In what way?" Hank was intrigued.

"You'd receive a full refund for your trip of course," Peterson hurried on, "and a sizeable contribution to the charity of your choice."

The couple didn't need the money; Jan was loaded. In any case, as members of the Avengers, they were entitled to a monthly stipend if so required. Yet, like the other members of that super team, they had a soft spot for charities.

"Now, how exactly do you expect us to find your ships?"

"We—we were hoping you would know…"

"Oh boy…" The two superheroes looked at each other and reached a silent agreement.

"Okay," Hank jumped into motion—they would take the case. "The first thing we'll need is access to everything concerning the missing ships. Manifests, projected routes, weather conditions, the whole nine yards."

"I'll be sure to clear it," the relief in Mr. Peterson's voice was palpable. "Now that you are handling the matter, we have full confidence it will be resolved."

"Great…" Jan muttered.

Hank acted as though he hadn't heard. "Let's get to work then."

"When we dock tomorrow, you can go ashore and speak with the branch office. They should be able to put you in touch with whatever and whomever you need."

"Well, so much for our tropical getaway…" Jan sighed once they were back out in the hallway.

"Think of it as a working vacation," Hank suggested, looking on the bright side.

Jan slyly looked over at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this! You've never been able to stand time off!"

"Hmmm," Hank answered non-committally.

"Come on," Jan said reluctantly, "let's get in what fun we can before we have to set to work."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something…"


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 3

The next morning found the ship docked. Disgorged from its stylish interior were hordes of would be treasure seekers intent on finding that one thing/place/person that would make the vacation experience complete. Among them were two whose mission was of a different nature.

"I still feel underdressed," Hank complained, as he and Jan made their way down the dock.

Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, some shorts, and a pair of sandals, he looked just like any other tourist. "We're usually in costume for this sort of thing."

Jan dismissed her lover's complaints.

"You said it yourself: it's a working vacation. And I intend to emphasize the vacation part. Besides, I don't think we need to worry about Kang showing up down here."

After boarding the bus leaving for town, the couple soon found themselves in front of the cruise line's regional office. As they entered, a woman behind the counter turned to them.

"May I help you?"

Jan took the lead. "Yes, thank you. I'm Janet Van Dyne, this is Dr. Henry Pym. I believe you were told to expect us."

"Ah, yes. Right this way." She led them behind the counter to a hallway that ran to the back of the building. At the end there was a door marked 'Employees Only'. Opening the door, the woman ushered the couple inside.

"Everything you need should be here. But if you need any assistance, you can just buzz me up front." She pointed to the intercom on the wall.

"Thank you," Jan said. The woman nodded and closed the door behind her.

Looking down at the long table piled high with manila folders, Hank drew up a chair.

"Well, let's get to work."

Several hours later, Jan pushed back from the table and rubbed her eyes, yawning.

"All this stuff is beginning to look the same."

She looked over to see that Hank wasn't listening. He was pouring over a map.

"You do realize," Jan said wryly, "that you are enjoying this far too much."

"Hmmm?" Hank mumbled, looking up.

Jan smiled and made her way around the table. Relaxing, she draped herself over the back of Hank's shoulders.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Not really," the founding Avenger admitted. "All the disappearances have happened here." He jabbed his finger to a point on the map. "But there's nothing there to indicate what may have caused them. No electromagnetic fields, no geothermic emissions, no archeological sites, not even local legends that refer to it as being a bad place."

"A new age 'Bermuda Triangle'?" Jan suggested.

"That suddenly sprang up within the last month?" Hank shook his head. "And anyway," he went on, "that still wouldn't explain _how_ the vanishings are happening."

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way," the lithe brunette proposed. "Instead of figuring out _how_ it was done, why don't we concentrate on _why_? If we can figure out a motive, then maybe a list of culprits will come to mind."

Hank twisted around to look into his gorgeous date's face. He grinned.

"You know, we make a good team."

"I know. _I_ was the one who pointed it out all that time ago."

Laughing, the scientist tilted his head up and kissed her.

"So," he said, turning back to the papers before him, "I guess that means a little more research. Such as what common links all three ships had."

Night began to fall as the two superheroes continued to scrutinize the mound of paperwork. Seeing the sun sink lower and lower on the horizon, Jan got up and buzzed the front counter. The woman they had met earlier promptly entered.

"Can we keep these?" Jan asked, gesturing to the strewn out papers. "We'll bring them back, I promise."

"Of course."

Jan thanked the woman and set about the task of collecting them.

"What are you doing?" Hank asked, looking up. He'd been so absorbed that he didn't know it was almost dark.

"The office closes soon, and we have to be back on board the ship before nightfall. Don't worry, we'll be able to spend plenty of time pouring over these files in our cabin," Jan added playfully.

"Sorry. Guess I just got caught up in all this. Here, let me help you." Hank got up and relieved Jan of her burden.

Having gotten all the files they'd need, they headed back for the ship. After getting everything situated there, the couple had to hurry and get ready for dinner.

"Come on Hank," Jan said, slipping a red strapless number over her head, "we don't want to be late."

"Surely the Captain can't expect us to put our investigation on hold just to eat dinner with him."

" _He_ may not, but _I_ do. We came on this cruise for a vacation. And so help me Hank Pym, I'm going to see we get as much fun out of it as possible. Whether you like it or not."

Hank stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Whether I like it or not? If the stated goal here is enjoyment, isn't that a direct dichotomy of…" he trailed off upon noticing the look in Jan's eye. He cleared his throat. "Never mind."

"That's better."

A short while later found the duo hurrying through the ship's corridors towards their destination.

"If we're late…" Jan threatened.

"I hardly think they'll make us walk the plank."

Jan would have responded had she not seen out of the corner of her eye a figure down one of the side halls glancing around furtively before darting through a doorway.

She thought the act peculiar, but shook it off. She'd been in 'The Game' too long. She was starting to see sinister doings everywhere.

Fortunately, they weren't late for dinner. Everything went smoothly, and the two enjoyed the evening.

When they headed back to their cabin, Jan couldn't help but glance down the corridor she'd seen that man in earlier. As expected, it was empty. Chiding herself for being silly, she redoubled her grip on Hank's arm and laid her head on his shoulder.

The next day, Jan was up early. But apparently not early enough. As she opened her bleary eyes and stretched, drawing her nightgown up in the process, she saw Hank hunched over the desk, absorbed with the stack of files before him.

"Hank!"

"Huh? Oh, good morning, hon," the scientist said absently, focused on his work.

Jan could only sigh and shake her head. Hank had always been a workaholic. But, she reminded herself with a smile, it was that 'absent minded professor' behavior that she found to be one of his endearing points. While she may carp on his excessive work schedule, she was enormously proud of what he had accomplished.

Jan had never been too 'science savvy', but being around one of the world's preeminent scientists has a way of rubbing knowledge off onto one. When they'd first met, she hadn't even been able to set her VCR. But now she could work the Avengers' supercomputer like a pro.

"Find anything yet?"

Hank answered without looking up. "Unfortunately, no. But I've still got plenty of information to work through. This is going to take us all day."

"Oh, no it won't," Jan said adamantly.

Hank looked up, confused.

"I'm not going to let it. We'll do our research, and then we'll go sight seeing. Then we'll do some more research, and then we'll go to dinner—"

"Then we'll do more research," Hank cut in. "Really Jan, I think we need to—"

"No, we will _not_ be doing more research," Jan interjected. "What did we do last night when we got back to our cabin?"

"We went to sleep," Hank replied, puzzled.

"Exactly. Because we were too tired after all that research. I do not intend to waste another night on sleeping…"

"Waste? But how—" he stopped as it dawned on him what Jan meant.

She smiled. For being so smart he was absolutely slow at times. "Let me get dressed, then I'll help you with that pile."

Together, they searched through the files all morning in an effort to find an indelible link between the disappearances. Having had enough, Jan rose.

"Time for a break."

"But—"

"No 'buts'. Out, out." She ushered him out of their cabin.

Taking their break, the two strolled around the deck, hand in hand.

"You know what," Hank said, "this was a good idea."

"I know."

As she looked around aimlessly, she spotted the same man she'd seen acting so oddly the night before. Turns out that he was a ship's purser. Yet, if he had a perfectly legitimate reason for being in that hallway, why'd he look so nervous?

Some sixth sense must have alerted him, for at that moment he looked around, puzzled. Then, frowning, he went back below decks.

Curiouser and curiouser, Jan thought.

"Hey, a shuffleboard tournament! I haven't played in years," Hank's child like glee cut through Jan's musings.

"Come on, let's give it a go!" he continued, gesturing to the group of people gathered around to try their hands at the game.

"Shuffleboard? Hank, _old_ people play shuffleboard!"

A couple nearby turned to give her a dignified look. Chagrined, Jan made apologies. Hank hadn't even noticed.

"Nonsense. Shuffleboard's a sport for all ages." He pulled Jan along to sign up.

"Shuffleboard, a sport?"

Before long they were signed up and in the thick of the action. While Jan was decent enough in her play, it was Hank who soon had the crowd 'oohing' and 'ahhing'.

Jan had to ask: "How did you get so good at this? I've never seen you play."

"Oh, it's simple really," he said, lining up his next shot. "It's all a matter of mathematics. You take the surface area of the deck and then factor in the weight of the cue and shuffle, then you take into account the amount of energy it takes to move an object at rest—"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry I asked," she laughed.

Hank and Jan were proclaimed the winners of the tournament. The prize was two free tickets to a local theater at the ship's next port of embarkation.

"Well, that was certainly fun." Strangely enough, she meant it. "But I suppose," she went on reluctantly, "that we should get back to work."

Soon they were back below decks on their way towards their cabin. However, when they got there, Jan noticed that the door was open, and she didn't remember leaving it that way.

Turning, Hank asked a silent question to which Jan shook her head. The duo slowed their tread and cautiously approached the open doorway.

Standing at the threshold, Hank gave a nod—that was the signal.

In a blink of an eye the two showed why they were called the Wasp and Ant-Man, shrinking to the size of those respective insects. Being so small, anyone who may have been in the room was sure to not notice them.

Taking care, the pint-sized heroes entered to see—no one. Nobody was there.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 4

Erring on the side of caution, they checked the bathroom and the closet, but both were empty. They were alone in the cabin.

Changing back to their normal sizes, they surveyed the damage, for the room was a wreck.

Their clothing had been tossed all over the place, and their things riffled through. Their luggage sat upended in the middle of the room.

Hank was the first to comment.

"Well, this certainly changes the complexion of things."

Someone had gone through the trouble of searching through their cabin, but what for?

Jan's mind working along the same wavelength, she had already sprung into action.

Hank turned to see her inspecting the lock on the door.

"No marks," she said.

"So," responded the scientist, "it wasn't a random burglary. Inside job?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Had to be. Someone obviously had a key to the room."

"Which would indicate a member of the crew," Hank finished.

Jan's instantly thought of that shifty purser she'd seen. Telling Hank of her suspicions, Hank was pensive.

"Hmmm. If it was a member of the crew, the question that immediately comes to mind is 'why'. What was he looking for?"

"Or more importantly, did he find it?"

"Good question. Let's see if anything is missing."

The next couple of hours were spent putting things back in order. Not only had their personal affects been gone through, so had the cruise line files.

"Now, why would a common sneak thief go through all these detailed files unless they had a reason to?" Jan asked.

"You think the rest was tossed just for show?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Then we'd better find out if they're all still here."

Which is what they did.

"I'm stumped," Jan said, rising from the floor to stretch her back. "Do you notice anything missing?"

"I'm not sure," Hank answered, intent on the file before him. "But I think… Ah, ha!" He tapped the folder and swung around. "I thought this one looked different."

"How can you tell? They all look the same to me."

"It's not so much my remembering what was there, but what _shouldn't_ be there. When we went over these before, I noticed a page in there that should have been in a different file. Now that misplaced page is gone."

"Do you recall what it said?" Jan asked eagerly.

"As a matter of fact, I do. It was part of a manifest for supplies brought on board one of the ships."

"Are the manifests for the others intact?"

"Let's see."

A search through a few other files showed the same thing. Portions of the manifests were missing for each of the missing cruise ships.

Jan was puzzled. "Why would someone go through all this trouble just to steal a few pages of supply log?"

"Obviously there was something in them that someone didn't want us to see."

"And I'd still like to know who found out we're working on this case in the first place."

"Me too. But first things first. We'd better cable ashore and have them fax us duplicates of the missing pages."

While the local headquarters didn't have any further copies, fortunately the corporate headquarters back on the mainland did.

Accounting for the time difference, it was an hour or so before they found themselves no further along than they had been.

"Why are these pages so interesting?" Jan wanted to know. As far as she could tell, everything was innocuous enough. Just lists of certain items the ships had taken aboard when at port.

"Nothing certainly looks out of the ordinary," Hank agreed. He was puzzled too. There was something here that someone was intent they not see. But what? Everything seemed in order. All manner of foodstuffs, medicine, fresh water. It all appeared to be accounted for. All except… Hank rummaged around until he came up with a copy of the requisition forms for the ships' supplies.

He carefully compared what had been requested, and what had actually been brought on board. It looked as if an extra crate of bananas was brought onboard each of the ships the day before they disappeared. What was more, all the ships had been loaded at the same port. There it was—a link.

Jan noticed her lover's furrowed brow. "You find something?"

"I think so." He showed her the discrepancy.

"So, each ship ended up getting an extra crate of bananas they didn't order, and then the next day they all vanished?"

"That's how it looks. What we need to do now is investigate the wholesaler that sold them the goods."

"That shouldn't be too difficult. Seeing as how they're at the ship's next port of call."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"I think we'd better have a talk with the Captain."

"Not to mention whomever it is that files the goods requests. And while we're at it, I think we should keep quiet about all this." She gestured around the disheveled room.

"Good thinking. If it is a member of the crew, then we don't want them to know that we're onto them."

The two were soon in the captain's cabin discussing what they had found out.

"Bananas, you say? Well, I couldn't tell you if we've ordered any or not."

"Don't you have to sign off on all requisitions?" Jan put in tactfully.

"Well, yes." The captain cleared his throat, embarrassed. "But it's a strictly routine matter you understand. A ship's captain has more pressing priorities than to see that every 'T' is crossed and 'I' dotted…"

"Of course," the brunette murmured.

"No one's questioning your competence, Captain," Hank put in. "We just want to know if there's an order pending for bananas."

"Yes, yes. Well now, that's easily seen to." He pressed a button on his intercom, getting the bridge. "Mister Mickinson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have Mister Rockhiem report to my cabin at once."

"Aye, sir."

"Mister Rockhiem handles the ship's supplies," the captain explained to the duo.

Five minutes later the cabin door opened to reveal a ship's purser.

To Jan's surprise, it was the one she'd marked down as acting oddly. Oblivious to Jan's suspicions, the captain pressed forward.

"Mister Rockhiem, I have need to know if we've asked for any additional bananas lately."

Rockhiem's eyes darted to the couple, then back to the captain. And though his tone was neutral, his swarthy complex whitened slightly. "I would have to check the log to make sure, but yes, I believe that we have, sir."

"Hmmm. Best check the manifest to be positive, you know where it is."

"Aye, sir," he replied, leaving to retrieve the form.

"Hank," Janet said in a de sotto voice, "that's the man I saw."

Thoughtful, Hank stared at the door the man had just left through.

"Tell us, Captain," he began, "what do you know about purser Rockhiem?"

The captain sat back in his chair. "Rockhiem? Well now, let's see. A decent enough chap I suppose. Keeps mostly to himself. A bit of a 'self made man' as it were. Originally from Yemen, I believe. Been with the crew for well neigh three years now, I think. Never had any trouble with him to speak of. Missed the boat a couple of times we put out of port, but nothing unusual. Why do you ask?"

"Just covering our bases," the scientist replied in an off hand manner.

Soon, Rockhiem was back with the ship's supply manifest. He stood before the captain's desk, shuffling through the papers on the clipboard.

"It would seem, sir," he said, "that the answer to your question is yes. In fact, we're due to pick them and the rest of our supplies up tomorrow once we dock."

"Thank you, Mister Rockhiem, you may go now."

"Now, what is this all about?" the captain demanded of the duo.

"Captain, here is what we know," Hank lay out. "The day before each ship disappeared, they took on a shipment of bananas. We also know that in each case they received one more crate than they asked for."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

They explained how their cabin had been tossed, and someone took the copies of the manifest forms—someone who had a key to the room.

"Why, I can't believe it." The captain was bowled over. "One of my own crew…" He gazed off into space.

"Not only that," Hank went on, "but Jan has seen purser Rockhiem acting strangely as of late.

"An oddly acting purser, a room burglarized by someone with a passkey, manifest forms removed—forms someone with knowledge of ordering supplies knew of—the very duties of said purser. Captain, I didn't want to say anything when Rockhiem was here, but I suggest that we hold him for the proper authorities."

Reluctantly, the captain got on the horn to the bridge.

"This is the Captain. Have Mister Rockhiem found and brought to me in my quarters. Immediately." He turned to the heroes, "I intend to get to the bottom of this _now_."

Minutes passed and still no Rockhiem. The captain was starting to get fidgety when his intercom buzzed.

"Yes." A pause. "What do you mean you can't find him?"

The super duo exchanged glances.

"Did you try his cabin? Well then—"

"If you'll excuse me, Captain," Hank interrupted, "is there any way the ship can be searched without alarming the passengers?"

The captain was pensive. "I'm afraid not. A complete search would have to inconvenience the passengers by its very nature. This is a large ship, a man could hide anywhere."

"And we dock tomorrow morning," the scientist mused. "If we don't find him before that time, he could slip off the ship."

"Exactly, just as you say. But I do confess as to being at a loss as to what we are to do instead," the captain said.

"Jan and I will look for Rockhiem on our own."

"By yourselves? But—"

"We can cover more ground than your crew, and in such a way as to not alarm the passengers."

"But how—"

"We have our ways." Hank smiled.

"Um, right. Of course. Well then, if I can be of any further assistance…"

"Thank you, Captain," Jan interjected, taking Hank's arm and seeing him to the end of the corridor.

Hank squared his shoulders. "Well, looks like we've got work to do."

"Hank, do me a favor. _Try_ not to sound so happy at the prospect," she asked, exasperated.

Laughing, Hank leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Uh, huh," she replied dubiously. "Well," she continued, "if we're going to do this, we'd better do it right. Come on, let's go back to our cabin and get our costumes."

"No need," Hank said, chipper. "Got them right here."

Seemingly from mid air, Hank produced both of their uniforms.

"Have Pym Particles, will travel."

Jan gave her lover a look.

"We still need to get into them. And I for one don't intend to change clothes in a hallway."

"Oh. Right."

Bemused, Jan led her brainy beau away.

"Besides, it'll give me a chance to show you what you'll be missing tonight…"


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 5

"It's been hours, and still no sign of him," the Wasp said as she peered into yet another nook of the massive ocean going vessel.

The superhero duo had been searching all night, and dawn was starting to spread its rosy fingers across the horizon.

"There's still the rest of the cargo hold to go over," her partner replied.

The cargo hold was packed, the crates all strapped together in the most efficient way so as to prevent them from shifting. Shifting cargo could lead to a sinking ship.

It wasn't long before they found something.

"Hold it," Ant-Man said, putting a hand to his ear. "I'm picking up radio waves."

As they got closer, the signal got stronger, until finally they ended up in front of a crate marked 'fragile'.

"What is it?"

"Unless I miss my guess, some kind of homing beacon."

"I guess that explains the extra crates," the heroine reasoned.

"There's also a separate frequency at work…"

"Our man 'phoning home'?"

Ant-Man listened some more.

"Yes. I don't suppose you know Arabic?" he asked.

"You're the genius."

"Linguistics was never my strong suit."

"What are you doing?" the Wasp asked, seeing her companion working on his communicator.

"Tracing the radio signal in order to find where the party on the other end of that conversion is."

"Now what?"

"After we let the Captain know where he can find his wayward purser, it's time we go on a little 'fishing expedition'."

"So much for our romantic getaway…"

"It was sweet of the Captain to lend us his private launch," Jan commented, idly gazing at the endless sea of blue.

"It's the least that he could do, considering that we had just avoided another hijacking." Hank shifted in his seat, his senses alert. "Stay sharp, we're coming up on the coordinates."

Yet his warning was in vain, for when they reached the coordinates, there was nothing to be seen, just more ocean.

Hank was at a loss. "This is where the signal came from, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe—" But before she could finish her sentence, the launch was shook by a massive tremor, followed by a total system shutdown.

"We're going down!"

"Abandon ship!"

Hastily, the two crime fighters fled the cabin, having only time enough to lower a life raft over the side before the ship was pulled down beneath the whipping waves with surprising speed.

"What happened!"

"I'm not sure…"

"I don't suppose we could call for help?"

"You happen to have Namor's cell number?"

"Cute. How about our Avengers communicators, smart guy?"

"Afraid not." He held up the now useless device. "They're fried. If I had to guess, I'd say by some powerful electromagnetic field. Which would account for the rapid sinking."

"How do you mean?"

"The ship didn't just sink, it was _pulled_. A powerful magnet could have affected the ship's metal hull in such a way as to forcibly pull it to the ocean floor.

"In fact," he went on, "the only thing that didn't get wrecked was my cybernetic helmet; too much shielding."

"Great. Now if only the ocean had insects…"

"Don't worry, I have an idea."

"It had better not involve me flying us out of here, because let me tell you right now, I can't carry you all that way."

"If what I'm thinking is right, the only place we'll need to go is down."

"Do I even want to know?"

"If it was a magnetic field that pulled the launch down, it would explain what happened to the other ships. And what's more, it would mean that whatever pulled them down is _down there_ right now." He pointed to the watery depths.

"What are you thinking?"

"Right now there's either a submarine or an underwater base under our feet. All we have to do is dive down and Bob's your uncle."

Jan arched an eyebrow at the erstwhile scientist. "Hank, neither of us can breath underwater."

"We wouldn't have to. Free diving is the answer. While Ant-Man isn't of much use in this situation, as _Giant-Man_ I could withstand the atmospheric pressure of the depths without being crushed. All I'd have to do is hold my breath. And at giant size, my lungs can hold a lot of air."

"Uh, huh. And what about little old me? You expect me to just wait up here like the dutiful 'little woman'? Because if you do, Hank Pym, then let me tell you something—"

"Actually," he cut in hastily, "I intended to take you along for the ride."

"How?"

"You won't like it…"

"Try me."

Hank explained in full his idea for transporting her. He was right—she didn't like it.

"Let me get this straight," she said, "you want me to shrink down in size so as to be able to fit into your mouth…"

"Thereby creating a pocket of pressurized air, thus allowing you to survive the pressures experienced down below. Otherwise—"

"Otherwise, I'd be squashed like a bug," she finished. "That's a change of pace."

The Avenger looked at her quizzically.

She grinned. "Usually I'm the one who swallows…"

She laughed as Hank's eyes widened. She loved tweaking his prudish nature.

Setting the plan into motion, the two slipped over the side, and together faced whatever may come.

The shimmering light from above became fainter and fainter the deeper the duo dove. All manner of aquatic life moved about them as Giant-Man kept an eye out.

Colorful fish, drab crustaceans, waving forests of kelp, an entire undersea calliope of life and organization flashed before his eyes.

As he dove deeper, Giant-Man could make out the ridge of an undersea depression. As promising a place as any, he swam over to the nearest lip to look inside.

Bingo.

There, in the center of the crater on the sea floor, was what was unmistakably an underwater base of some sort.

Two domes, one larger than the other, and both connected by way of a sealed walkway/hallway. Of course, one might still have mistaken it for an innocent research base. That is, if it were not for the giant electromagnetic device that stuck out from the largest dome like a ray gun from some _Buck Rogers_ serial.

Undoubtedly this was the cause of all of the recent troubles. He had seen bigger 'villainous headquarters' in his time, but it was still impressive.

This was obviously the place, but how to get inside? Well, how does anyone ever get inside anywhere? They knock.

Giant-Man made his way to what could only be a submarine hatch. From there, it was a simple matter of tapping the outer hull until someone came to investigate.

The plan was just as simple. Hide behind the curve of the dome, wait until the inevitable patrol was launched to investigate the disturbance, then slide in behind it and enter the facility before the hatch doors closed. From there it got a bit sketchier.

Sure enough, the expected patrol came out to see what was making all the noise, and Giant-Man seamlessly swam in behind them.

The super sized scientist emerged into a moon pool, the bay's florescent lighting casting weird shadows over the dark water. They were in luck: nobody seemed to be around. The place must be highly automated, the Avenger thought as he got out of the pool.

Opening his mouth, he could see the Wasp fly out and land on the metal flooring.

"Whew," she breathed, regaining her natural height. "Now I know how a sardine feels. I'll never look at pelicans the same way again."

"It worked, we're in."

"In what, exactly?"

"Some kind of base. Whoever is in charge here is the one responsible for all of the hijackings going on. One of their patrols just left, and it won't be long before they're back. I suggest that we get going."

"By all means."

Going small, the duo decided to make use of the base's ventilation system to make their way around. No need to arouse undue attention to themselves.

"First," Ant-Man said as they raced down the air duct, "we need to find out where the cruise ships and their passengers are being held. Then we see about a way to get them out of here safely."

"If we can find the communications center we could contact the other Avengers, not to mention the proper authorities."

"No doubt that's the nerve center of this place. We take that, the rest will be a piece of cake."

The Wasp winced. "Don't say 'cake'. I haven't eaten in hours."

"Finally!" the Wasp sighed in relief as they found the room. "I was beginning to wonder just how big this place really was."

Looking down through the vent grate, they could make out the communications center. There appeared to be twenty or so men scattered around the room at various stations.

But the most interesting thing by far was the attire that the men wore. The duo recognized it instantly.

A.I.M. (Advanced Idea Mechanics) If a beekeeper's suit could be said to be sinister, these were. An international group of terrorists, the Avengers had tangled with them before. They made Al Qada look like the Vienna Boys Choir.

It all made sense now. A.I.M. had deep pockets; they could afford a base like this, not to mention having the audacity to hijack cruise liners.

"There're the ships!" The Wasp pointed excitedly at one of the monitors ringing the room below.

Sure enough, there were the missing ships, all seemingly in one piece. How A.I.M. had managed that feat they could only wonder about. But what was important was that they were there.

"But what about the passengers?" the Wasp wanted to know.

"They're probably still on board," Ant-Man reasoned. "After all, it would be easier to confine them aboard their own ships than to house them in the base here."

"So, any ideas as to how we get them out?"

Being underwater, the only way to release them would have to be via the same mechanism that brought them down here in the first place.

"And how do we do that under A.I.M.'s nose?" the Wasp asked.

"That's where you come in." Ant-Man smiled.

"I knew I shouldn't of asked…"

What the plan came down to was diversionary tactics. Relying on her small size, the Wasp gingerly made her way through the control room. Unnoticed, she slipped into one of the control consoles, via a fan duct.

Once inside, she proceeded to wreak havoc. Pulling out, crossing up, and simply frying the wiring. The results were immediate.

"What's going on?" one of the technicians shouted, in an attempt to be heard over the suddenly blaring alarms.

"The systems have gone nuts!"

The Wasp had done her part. Now it was Ant-Man's turn.

Thanks to a handy diagram of the base's layout tacked to the control room's wall, Ant-Man was able to get his bearings. Now was the time to sneak down to the missing cruise ships, while the facility was blind as a bat.

That part proved almost too easy. Now came the hard part—freeing them.

The setup was just as he had thought: A.I.M. had been using an electromagnetic field generator. Not only did it pull the ships down, but it also provided them with an energy shield to buffer them from the destructive forces of the ocean's depths. It was quite ingenious. In an appalling sort of way of course.

It should be an easy matter to reverse the process, Ant-Man thought. Spying the control console not far away, he sized himself up to normal and made his way towards it confidently.

It was then that things got complicated.

In all the commotion, someone had had the presence of mind to check on the prisoners. Ant-Man was halfway across the room when an A.I.M. patrol walked through the doors.

For half a second, the high tech terrorists and the superhero just looked at each other. Then all heck broke loose.

Bringing their side arms to bear the same instant Ant-Man shrunk himself down, their energy beams lanced over his head.

"Use the low intensity setting!" one of the minions yelled. "The last thing we need is to rupture the hull!"

Ant-Man was in perfect agreement. A hull rupture would kill them. However, he had no intention of letting that happen.

Moving quickly, the astonishing avenger grew suddenly from ant size to over twenty feet tall. With the increase in size came an increase in strength, which he then used to lash out at the guards.

One ham sized fist sent an agent to the floor unconscious, while the other backhanded his companion as casually as brushing away a fly. With a speed that belied his size, Giant-Man was on the others in an instant.

To a man, they all gave up; none of them keen on taking their chances with the irate giant. Giant-Man pointed to one of the men.

"You. How does this work?" he asked, motioning to the control panel.

"S-simple," the terrorist stammered. "You press button to start electromagnetic coils. Then it pulls down whatever the man reflector dish is aimed at."

It _was_ simple. It was also something that could be reversed.

"I think you know what has to happen now," the superhero said, staring at the glum A.I.M. agents.

With little more than a sigh, they took their medicine like good little chumps, and in short order all of them were out like a light.

Having heard the commotion, the imprisoned passengers had ventured to peep out of their respective ship's portholes. Recognizing Giant-Man, it wasn't long before the ships' captains were on deck.

Cupping his hands to his mouth, the Avenger asked if everyone was all right. He received an affirmative. Good, that was a load off of his mind.

He then outlined his plan, and warned the captains to keep everyone below decks. That taken care of, all that was left was to get those people out of there.

Pressing a large red button, Giant-Man started the electromagnetic coils into action. Next came the opening of the dome's roof.

He stood back and marveled at the sight. To see these large ocean liners rise up and through the watery mass that comprised three fourths of the world's surface… It was an engineering feat of the first order. Slowly, the steel behemoths rose upwards. Up, up until finally, with a large _splashing_ sound, they were deposited safely on the ocean's surface.

Having ascertained that the passengers were safe, Giant-Man then proceeded to smash the control panel beyond all use. Now all that remained was to call in the cavalry and get himself and the Wasp out of here.

While everyone was busy running around trying to figure out what was going on, the Wasp took the opportunity to patch into the communications grid. It was but a moment's work to send out a message to the Avengers explaining their situation and their requirements. Now it was time to evacuate.

"You were successful, I see," she said upon reuniting with her mite-sized boy toy.

"Yep. You?"

"Of course."

"Time to get out of here then."

"Sounds good to me, but how? I am _not_ going to play the role of a breath mint again."

It was a good question.

"If we've learned anything over the years, it's that villains are good at running away."

"And they always have escape plans," the Wasp finished, tapping her forehead. Of course. These supervillain types _always_ had ways to escape from their secret bases.

"Remember that schismatic? I suggest that we try for the submarine pens."

"Lead the way, handsome."

Flittering through the hallways, the Wasp saw A.I.M. personnel running to and fro, trying to figure out what was setting off all of the alarms.

Soon the duo found themselves facing twelve full sized submarines. Not to mention a host of men watching over the place in obvious apprehension. The alarms had set them on edge, and they were all bunched together, talking to one another.

How convenient.

"Shall you do the honors, or I?" the womanly wonder asked, her mouth curling in a smile.

"I'll handle this one."

"Ever the gentleman."

"Excuse me," the suddenly giant scientist asked of the stunned men, "but would any of you happen to know the way to the not-so-little boy's room?"

Stunned, they stood rooted in place, staring at him dumbly.

Giant-Man reached out both arms, as though embracing them in a great big hug. However, instead, he lifted four guards off their feet and slammed them into the base's bulkheads.

Even as their cohorts were being scattered about like a child's playthings, two of the remaining agents managed to un-holster their weapons.

Noting the action, Hank immediately shrunk down to ant size. The result being that the two goons caught themselves in the ensuing crossfire.

One of the sentries had had the presence of mind to think of calling for help. Yet, even as he reached for his communication device, a size forty-three triple E boot shot out of nowhere and kicked him into dreamland.

Not bothering to take aim, another of the goons unleashed a volley of fire in Giant-Man's general direction. Fortunately, the shots hit one of the subs instead of him. But all the same, it was about time he finished this.

Moving as quickly as he could, Giant-Man plucked up the gun-totting tool as easily as a child picking a flower. Then, using the hapless cretin as a flail, he swung him about, flooring at least two other henchmen, before tossing the human club aside.

The two remaining thugs looked at Giant-Man, then at each other. Then, in silent agreement, they both dropped their weapons and turned tail and ran.

"They just don't make evil henchmen like they used to," the Wasp faux lamented, as she looked over her man's handiwork.

The grunt work done, they set to their task. It wasn't enough to facilitate their own escape; they needed to make sure that A.I.M. could _not_ escape.

All it took was a single blow of a giant sized fist to punch a hole large enough in any of the subs to make them unusable.

"All aboard," Hank gestured extravagantly, shrinking down to his normal size to open the top hatch of the last remaining sub.

"It's not exactly the ocean voyage I'd had in mind when we started out, but I guess a girl can't be too choosey…"

Making sure to first trigger the opening mechanism for the bay doors, Hank followed Jan inside, sealing up the hatch before making his way up front to the bridge.

Jan looked about the empty stations with some bit of trepidation. "This looks to be more than a two man job."

"The computer can handle most of the systems on its own," Hank said, unworried. "We shouldn't have any problem running it."

They were out of the base and into open water in short order. All they had to do now was check in on the cruise ships, and wait for backup. Smooth sailing.

It's a fact that things go wrong right when one thinks that they shouldn't.

They hadn't gone more than a half a mile before the base hailed them. Hank opted to ignore it.

"They seem pretty insistent," Jan noted, the communications light flashing off and on.

"That's the thing about criminals. They don't like it when other people take _their_ stuff."

"Uh, Hank," Jan said anxiously, "we've got a problem. Three actually."

"What?"

"Look at the radar."

Three blips had emerged from the base and were racing towards them. Since they couldn't be subs, that left only one thing: torpedoes.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

The torpedoes raced through the murky ocean's depths as the stalwart scientist sought to avoid being blown to smithereens.

"Two hundred yards and closing," Jan said tensely.

"It's like driving a bus," Hank complained. "This thing wasn't exactly built for combat."

"I'll be sure to add it to the list of A.I.M.'s faults."

Jan watched as the torpedoes came steadily closer, even as they tried their best to put some distance between them.

"Fifty yards… Forty… Thirty…"

Both she and Hank let out a breath as the would-be instruments of their doom passed harmlessly astern. Not by much, but a miss is still a miss.

"That was a bit too close for comfort."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. What say we get our rears out of range?"

"I'd love to, but at this rate it's going to be a while before that happens. And I'm pretty sure that our friends back there will be sending us some more 'presents' before long."

"Now would be a really good time for that big beautiful brain of yours to come up with something."

Hank was trying to do just that when he noticed something else.

"Jan, look, the radar!"

A whole host of blips just came into view, perhaps two dozen in all, and from the size of them they weren't a school of fish.

"Great, what now?"

"I just got a 'whale' of an idea…"

"What do you have in mind?" Jan asked, suspicious.

"Those are whales. Easily as big as our sub here. If we hid amongst them, A.I.M.'s radar won't be able to tell us from them."

"What if they decide to try and kill us all?"

"I don't like the term 'meat shield', but…"

"Hank Pym!" the diminutive debutante admonished.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Suiting action to words, Hank aimed for the passing cetaceans.

"P.E.T.A. will have our heads for this…" Jan remarked, casting an anxious eye on the radar screen.

"Better than A.I.M. having them…"

Reaching the whales, the duo waited for the swarm of torpedoes they were just sure that A.I.M. would unleash. Only, they never came.

"Chalk one up for the good guys," Hank said.

"Spoke too soon," Jan's voice was intense. "Multiple torpedoes have just been launched!"

"What heading?"

Jan looked at the radar screen, puzzled. "Away from us."

" _Away?_ "

"Yeah. It looks like they're heading towards—it's the ships, Hank!" Jan gasped in horror. "They're targeting the ships!"

Out of pure malice, A.I.M. was going to murder all of those innocent people. If ever there was a better display of evil, Hank didn't know what it was.

"Make all speed for those torpedoes, Jan. Maybe if we get close enough we can knock them out with our _own_ torpedoes."

Of course, the sub they were in was armed as well. It would be a race against time.

They were going to be too late; Hank could just feel it. He hit the console in frustration. The science wiz's inner battle was witnessed from afar.

Leaving her post, Jan came over and stood next to the great love of her life. The winsome woman shared her mate's emotions. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she signaled that he was not alone.

Looking up into her face, Hank marveled again at the benevolent deity that had seen him worthy of such a woman. They had both been through so much over the years, yet here she was still, standing by his side.

"We'll catch them," she said softly.

Tensely, both watched the radar screen as they closed the gap between them and their targets, even as the targets themselves edged ever closer to the passenger ships.

"Thirty seconds until range," Jan said, reading Hank's mind.

Thirty seconds. It couldn't come fast enough. One half of one minute was all that stood between safety and death for those people.

"Ten… Five…"

"Fire!"

The sub's full accompaniment of torpedoes raced out, sent winging their way through the watery domain on a mission of mercy.

With their naked eye, they witnessed the explosions as the two groups of torpedoes met.

The resultant shockwave struck the sub, causing the heroes to hold on for dear life as the vessel was shaken around like a rag doll.

It was several moments before either of them could get back to their instruments.

"I'm afraid to look," Jan said, eyes averted. "Did it work?"

Though he wouldn't admit it, Hank too was scared. However, bucking up his courage, he looked at the radar screen.

"We're good," he breathed, his relief evident. "They're okay."

"That's great," Jan agreed. "Now I need a vacation from my vacation!"


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

 _Outer Mongolia_

Hank stood amidst the vast vacant expanse, gazing at the lowering sunset. The sky with its iridescent shadings reminded him of the shifting bands of the aurora borealis.

It wasn't long before Jan emerged from the yurt to join him.

"Tell me something," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "What made you chose this place? There can't be another person for a hundred miles in any direction."

"Exactly."

Plying herself to his body, Jan lowered his head, her lips hungrily seeking his as their two forms seemed to merge in the rapidly darkening sunset.

Now _this_ was a vacation.

THE END


End file.
